Quotes About Evening

It must have been something pretty bad. It took a lot to make them chuck people out of music-halls in 1887. "Your uncle specifically states that father had drunk a quart and a half of champagne before beginning the evening," she went on. "The book is full of stories like that. There is a dreadful one about Lord Emsworth." "Lord Emsworth! Not the one we know? Not the one at Blandings?

Ukridge was the sort of man who asks you to dinner, borrows money from you to pay the bill, and winds up the evening by embroiling you in a fight with a cabman.

Don't do it. Women are the devil, whether they marry you or jilt you. Do you realise that women wear black evening dresses that have to be hooked up in a hurry when you are late for the theatre, and that, out of sheer wanton malignity, the hooks and eyes on those dresses are also made black? Do you realise...?

I remember, back in England, the man I had before Jeeves sneaked off to a meeting on his evening out and come back and denounced me in front of a crowd of chappies I was giving a bit of supper to as a useless blot on the fabric of Society.

oh reaper of my evening song, how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!

Ya me veo olvidado como estas viejas anclas. Son más tristes los muelles cuando atraca la tarde. Se fatiga mi vida inútilmente hambrienta. Amo lo que no tengo. Estás tú tan distante.

Many a morning and evening found Mother and me meditating before an improvised shrine, offering flowers dipped in fragrant sandalwood paste. With frankincense and myrrh as well as our united devotions, we honored the divinity which had found full expression in Lahiri Mahasaya.

Randy felt relieved. He looked out over the river, contemplating his ignorance of women and the peace of evening.

Dusk was falling quickly. It was just after 7 P.M., and the month was October.

At some point in the late afternoon, preferably before dinner, while you are still experiencing the strength and rest of God, take fifteen minutes in quiet solitude to review and examine the day.

The biblical day begins at sundown—the early evening, we might call it. It is the end that is also the beginning.

morning was true will by evening have become a lie.

I had set the Evening wholly apart to consider seriously about it, and was all alone; for already People had, as it were by a general Consent, taken up the Custom of not going out of Doors after Sun-set, the Reasons I shall have Occasion to say more of by-and-by.

We thought we had time. I waved but couldn't answer, because I was finally letting myself grin as wide as I'd wanted all afternoon, all evening, every sec of every minute with you, Ed. Shit, I guess I already loved you then.

You always feel like your 18-year-old self in some sense. And that's what walking through New York on a June evening feels like – you feel like it's Friday, and you're 17 years old.

Friendship is the shadow of the evening, which strengthens with the setting sun of life.

There is nothing I like better at the end of a hot summer's day than taking a short walk around the garden. You can smell the heat coming up from the earth to meet the cooler night air.

Feeling indisposed towards the evening, I drove up the ancient plains. The setting sun is unspeakably beautiful, Only it is approaching nightfall.

In the evening I finished reading a book, and because I was feeling so alone, I buried the book on the edge of the forest with a borrowed spade.

The sun is setting," he said, and Jordan rose obediently to charge the glasses. The sundowner whisky was already a traditional ending to the day in this land north of the Limpopo.

The evening advanced. The shadows lengthened. The waters of the lake grew pitchy black. The gliding of the ghostly swans became rare and more rare.

The sun descending in the west, The evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest. And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower In heaven's high bower, With silent delight Sits and smiles on the night

A warm sunny evening, the plash and gurgle of the waves in the rock pools, the rush of the cold gin. I thought for the first time of my novel, abandoned, all these years, and I came up, unprompted, with the perfect title. Octet. Octet by Logan Mountstuart. Perhaps I will surprise them all, yet.

And this other evening light, rainy, rose and silver, and to her left a river the color of cold lead. Dark tumble of city, towers in the distance, few lights.